World Water Fight
by ColaChemicalHetalia
Summary: Imagine if World War One had been a huge water fight between the nations...


Disclaimer: This fanfiction is only meant to be a bit of fun and it wasn't meant to offend anyone; I understand that both World Wars were very serious events in which many brave and noble people lost their lives. Also, I did tons of research for this fanfiction but I'm not the best historian- please say if there's anything historically inaccurate or missing!

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Serbia had just deposited a balloon, filled with freezing water, over Austria and Hungary. Since they'd been visiting the other nation's house on the warm summer day, a water fight of some kind had been inevitable. The husband and wife pair were shivering and gasping in absolute shock and disgust; how could you rule an empire when your clothes are dripping?! The Austrian was having none of it.

"I declare this a water fight! Us two versus Serbia!"

Russia didn't think so. Stepping into the garden, a bucket of water balloons at his feet and one coloured sphere in each hand, he was ready to defend his surprisingly absent Balkan friend if Austria or Hungary fired. But Serbia wasn't the only one with an alliance: Germany had planned this down to a T. He had also brought with him a supply of water based weapons, and his plan was as follows- if he were to wipe out France by process of soaking, the sissy would leave in no time to change clothes, he would then be free to step in and attack Russia, which, in theory, would keep his friends- Austria and Hungary- dry. However, there was a rather major flaw in the Aryan man's plan. France knew, and wasn't planning on coming to the event so as not to cause an issue. (By the way, as previously mentioned, this fight had been anticipated. France was sat on the patio, far enough away so he wouldn't get splashed, along with some more spectators.) Britain didn't really want a fight either, but when Germany declared Belgium involved and used her to attack France before declaring himself against Russia, Britain had to get involved: he'd made it pretty clear that Belgium had to stay neutral. Germany, Austria and Hungary against Britain, France and Russia. The year was 1914, and this wasn't just any water fight. 'The water fight to end all water fights'- this was World Water War.

Bypassing once again neutral Belgium, Germany began to hurl water bombs at France, completely soaking him all over. High pitched screams filled the air as yet another hit France in the jaw, the splash resulting in Belgium also getting splashed.

"Sacré bleu!" Spat France, a fountain of water spurting from his mouth. Both nations were doused with the freezing liquid, squirming around to no avail. "Why us?! Its Britain that's declared war on you!" France was cornered, but with help from Britain (and a good measure of water pistols) Germany was pushed back, spluttering as he struggled to defend his face with one arm and throw water missiles with the other. Serbia, who had in fact started all this, played a surprisingly small part in the fight: Russia stood in front of him at all times in defence, water balloons ready.

Meanwhile, Austria and Hungary, encouraged by Germany, began to build an army with Poland and other nations, but with the exception of Italy- the nation who'd been siding with them right up to the fight outbreak, but had entered on the other team.

"Very well, then, it's on!" Yelled an ambitious England, gathering his empire- Canada, New Zealand, Australia and others- along with a still very wet France, and moving to the far end of the large garden, which resembled more of a field, taking cover behind a bush. Germany recruited his rather reluctant older brother, Prussia, and dragged him across to the opposite end. "So this is my plan..." A mischievous if not slightly deranged sparkle came to England's emerald eyes. "We use a remote controlled helicopter with a camera attached to determine Germany's location, and then fire constantly." He patted the water gun at his side and looked around: France with water pistols and the rest of the British Empire beginning to fill water balloons from a garden tap. "So we throw and shoot constantly, get them wet, and make the ground muddy. If they're dry enough to advance, they'll just slip on the mud." The rest of the party just nodded: it seemed a good idea. Emphasis on seemed.

Meanwhile, Prussia and Germany had got themselves into trash cans. Yes, you heard me. Prussia had a similar reaction, and it was with irritated snaps of "I hate you!" and "Five metres ain't gonna fit in here!" that the albino found his way into the safety of the bin. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and England's plane had been blown away by the wind and the camera blurred by rain on the lens, but his enemies were hidden and safe. The firing began: aimless shots, hitting the already wet ground and churning the grass to mud. Single shot weapons progressed to buckets and a hose, creating puddles on the waterlogged mud. After a good while, England and France gave the order to charge. Oh, what total idiots they looked as they attempted to advance across the lawn. Prussia's 'kesese~' was barely distinguishable over the shouts and screams as the opposing team slipped and fell on the slippery ground, their once clean and pressed uniforms covered in liquid mud as they were hurled at with water balloons.

"Damn you and your foolish plan!" France screeched.

"But...by Jove, they're still dry!" England gazed up at an approaching Germany, regretting it as a smirk spread across the taller blonde man's face and a water stream hit him square between the eyes. The previously advantaged side were writhing in the mud, perfect targets for Germany's gang, but although they were having fun, the Central Powers were gaining none of the garden's land so no closer to victory.

"Stand by, buddies!" Just when it looked as if Britain had lost all hope, a thick, egotistical drawl brought silence to the soggy screams, and the mud framed eyes flashed with happiness and pleasure of sight.

"America...!"

Tilting his head up with pride, the sun bouncing off of his glasses, the latecomer stripped off his jacket and pulled from his bag what seemed an infinite supply of water balloons.

"Yes, the hero is here! Now get ready for an ass kicking!" Throwing the packets to the other team members, he grabbed a water gun and began to fire alongside England. The world had never seen anything like it- as more countries joined, the garden became a huge mess of mud and screaming figures, falling to the floor, crawling about or slipping on their feet. It wasn't long before Germany was running out of arms and missiles; it wouldn't have been so bad, if America hadn't have turned up and given England more bloody weapons. The smaller man was firing like a madman- as soon as Canada handed him a filled balloon, he would hurl it at Germany, and get a direct hit every time.

"Germany, pull back!"

"We can't do this much longer, Germany, we're all soaked! One of us could get ill!"

"Just give up!"

There was a short pause before Germany dropped his gun, and the garden fell silent. Gaining a smirk from the opposing team, he held his hand out to England.

"Fine..." He muttered irritably. "You win."

Roars of joy erupted from all over the garden as the nations joined in a victory celebration. Cries of joy could be heard from miles away as water weapons were thrown down- everyone was soaking and exhausted, but it was over, and they'd won.

So picture the scene. A crowd of countries gathered around, all perched on plastic garden chairs. The fight had left everyone soaked, France and Belgium with a chill and seriously damaged clothes, Germany waterless and Austria and Hungary no longer together.

"As the victors of this debacle..." England opened with a bit of an understatement, speaking on behalf of America and France as well as himself. "We demand that Germany pays for all of this to be cleaned up."

"What?!" Yelled the German man. "How can that be fair? I didn't start it, Serbia did!"

"But it was you who attacked France." England looked down on the other. "And Belgium, and Belgium was supposed to be neutral. Look at how wet she is! And so's France!" The Frenchman looked up from wringing out his sopping jacket and winked at nobody in particular. Even when water damaged, he was still a dirty pervert.

"We only want peace, Germany." America sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please don't be difficult."

"Germany, you surrendered. This deal demands that you pay for Belgium and France to get new clothes, as when you tried to get me wet, they were who you fired over. You must clear all of this up, and you are to throw your weapons away with the other debris. And you're not allowed to be anywhere near France or stay friends with Austria and Hungary, in case another fight breaks out." Sternly, England held his hand out and the other victors followed suit. Reluctant and disgruntled, Germany shook everyone's hand, and the deal was sealed. But as the other countries left him to clear up after the mess that they contributed to, he gazed across the garden and downm the lens of an imaginary camera, the final shot of the movie. The water fight to end all water fights? Not in Germany's mind. This wasn't over yet.

"You see," Meanwhile, Switzerland- who had been sat on the patio for the entire duration of the water battle- leaned over to his sister. "This, Liechtenstein, is why we don't get involved."

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Thank you for reading! I love reviews, and if you like it...there might be a sequel ;)


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